


Special Delivery

by driventoraulinsanity (DarkDreamsOfHannigram)



Series: Frederick's Hidden Desires: Chilton/Reader [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Crossdressing Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Masturbation, OMG I have never written a female character or a reader fic before IDK what to tag, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 15:25:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2155569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDreamsOfHannigram/pseuds/driventoraulinsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You've been seeing Dr. Frederick Chilton for a little while, and he's ready to show you a hidden side of himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Delivery

It wasn’t uncommon for there to be unexpected packages on the doorstep; between your busy schedule and somewhat forgetful nature, ordering things online and then not remembering it was a relatively common occurrence.

However, picking up the package from between the outer and inner doors, you notice it hadn’t come through the mail or even via a courier; the brown paper wrapping bore only your name and no other information.

You did, however, recognize the handwriting.

Curious was an understatement in describing how you felt at seeing Frederick Chilton’s writing on the package. He’d never done something like this before. Having spent a few nights over at your house, he certainly was no stranger, but mysterious packages left at your door seemed a bit impulsive for him. 

Opening it, you were a little unsurprised to see the package contained a pair of black silk stockings and a simple but revealing camisole and lacy panty set the exact color of Frederick’s stunning green eyes. It was clear the items were fabulously expensive and in quite good taste.

Smiling, you thought it was a wonderful surprise, if a bit predicable for a man to give you lingerie.

However, lifting the things up, it was obvious they were much too big for you. You tried not to be insulted, realizing he probably didn’t buy such things often. But the stockings were clearly oversized. Just as you were reaching a new level of puzzlement, you notice the note that had been hidden underneath:

“In case you were wondering, these aren’t for you.”

It took about a full minute of standing in stunned silence to both realize what this meant and accept the implications.

After picking your jaw up off the floor, you called him straight away. The phone conversation went like this: he admitted that he’d been wearing items an intimate nature for some time now, but that he’d never felt comfortable enough to share it with anyone else. He’d figured he would stop hiding it, and either you’d be ok with it, or you’d break things off. His sense that you’d be open minded was right, and you told him that not only were you fine with it, but that he’d better get his sexy ass over to your place that night so you could get a good, long look.

. . . . .

Even though you’d reassured him on the phone that you were very eager to indulge him, he was visibly nervous when he arrived. “Sit down and have a drink,” you say warmly, beckoning him to the couch, and he was happy to accept.

A couple of glasses of wine later, he begins talking more openly. “I really like the way it feels. And looks…”

“I don’t blame you. Such things have been designed for women of course, but there’s no need to be so restricted about it. You should wear what makes you feel good, and what makes you feel sexy.”

You slide your hand over his knee and up his thigh. He wisely puts down the glass before he drops it.

You lean over to his ear, kissing it lightly, and say: “Show me.”

Frederick takes a deep breath and stands up, taking the box with him into the bedroom.

“Tell me when you’re finished, and I’ll join you in there,” you call to him. You can hear some movement and a few intakes of breath from the slightly opened door.

You finish your wine, and after several minutes, you hear a tentative voice say “I’m ready.”

You close your eyes before opening the door, and open them slowly. This is an experience you always want to remember. You bring your hand to your mouth when you see the sight waiting for you - he’s stretched out on the bed, resting his shoulders on the headboard, one knee bent. You let your eyes roam slowly up his legs, to his thighs, just where the stockings end. Over the smooth material of the panties that are barely capable of containing his visibly hard cock. Above that, you notice that he’s completely smooth, the sparse, dark line of hair that had been there gone. The camisole sets off his eyes dramatically; they’re wide and shining as he looks at you, how you’re reacting to all of this.

It’s a lot to take in, to say the least.

 “Oh Frederick….oh my….”

“Is it ok? Is it good?”

You walk over to him and trace two fingers up his muscular, silky legs, all the way to that spot where they meet his exposed skin. You suspect you’ll be spending a lot of attention there. He shudders, tilting his head back, breathy moans escaping his parted lips.

“I think words like ‘ok’ and ‘good’ are thoroughly inadequate to describe this,” you say darkly.

You decide that you’re quite overdressed for this situation, so decide to remove everything except your bra and panties. Something about being with him like this, both of you dressed similarly, is deeply erotic.

One thing he wears that you don’t are the smooth stockings that encase his lovely, shapely legs. This is where you start when you sit beside him. You move your hands up and over his calf, marveling at the juxtaposition of soft material and solid muscle. Up and over his knees to his thighs, which are softer, but no less taught. His breathing quickens as you caress the skin above the material. You see his lace and silk covered cock twitch, and a patch of the fabric darken with the leaking that is surely a result of your touch. You move your hand over his hip up to his abdomen. The lack of hair makes his scar all the more prominent, but instead of avoiding it, you press the flat of your palm over it as you slide under the camisole, over his chest, to stroke a hardened nipple.

“Oh god…” he whispers.

You need to keep him in this state, so you lean over his body to tongue his thigh.

“Mmmm, sweet,” you sigh. “You taste as good as you look, Frederick. Tell me how it feels. Tell me what you want,” you ask, voice heavy with lust.

He knows it’s because of him, and it makes his cock surge all the more.

“I want to feel you,” he gasps.

Not having given you any specific parameters, you decide that you’d quite like to see what it’s like to move your legs over his stocking-clad thighs. Taking him by surprise, you straddle him, and the first thing that becomes obvious is how hard he is beneath you. It’s easy to slide the silky fabrics of both your flimsy undergarments together, and you brace yourself on the headboard for more leverage.

You lean over his ear as you grind on him, and whisper as innocently as possible, “You’re so hard. Is that for me, Frederick?”

He moans a drawn out “Yesss” in response.

Rising up just enough to give room for your hand, you reach it under the fabric covering his length, and touch his cock. He gasps at the direct contact, and it always astonishes to you how big he is. Something about the contrast between the feminine garment and the powerful masculinity it contains makes you almost weak with desire to feel that inside of you.

You stroke him a few more times, closing your eyes and concentrating on the feel of the veins pulsing along the hardness; then you pull it free of its confines, and touch him freely, spreading the precum that's been soaking the panties all this time, making it easy to slide your hand up and down.

You position your crotch over his, and just pull your now-soaking panties aside to run the head of his cock all the way up and down your slickness, pleasuring yourself with him, using him. He knows it, and wants nothing more than to be your toy.

As you lean forward, you take him inside of you, all the way and all at once, and it's almost overwhelming, knocking the air out of your lungs as you sink down on him, hard and fast.

He leans back, passively at first, as you rock up and down on him. As you are concentrating on the feel of his cock filling you, he decides he wants to see you and taste you, so he deftly unhooks your bra, and puts both hands on your breasts as he balances his weight on his shoulders still braced on the headboard. You realize what he's done, and lean forward, still riding him, and he licks and sucks your breasts, teasing one nipple with his tongue and teeth.

It is sharp and slightly painful, but the heat building in your belly is doubled by it somehow. You're practically growling as you start stroking your clit, and he can tell you're getting close.

"I need to feel you cum while I'm inside you," he breathes between sucking and bites. "Please, fuck me harder, use me, please cum for me..."

You start to go over the edge, as you bury your head in his neck and touch yourself harder, and harder still, as your orgasm takes you and you smell the arousal on his body mingled with yours. Rocking harder into each wave, he curls an arm around your back and holds you as you cry incoherent syllables that he hopes are his name.

As you start to come down, you realize your heart is hammering in your chest. You catch your breath, you still yourself with his hard cock still fully inside of you. Finally, you move off of him, and he groans as he slides out of you. He was concentrating on pleasuring you, but he still got very close himself.

Settling down next to him, you take the soaked panties off of him completely; he makes needy little sounds every time you brush his cock in the process.

Swiftly, you lean over and begin sucking him lightly, tasting yourself on him. He finds this incredibly sexy, and is reduced to moaning and whining with his head back as you tease at the swollen head with your lips, pressing into his wet slit with your tongue. Despite his pressing need to cum, you still want to prolong this.

There's a small bottle of lube on the bedside table, and you make use of it, slicking up two fingers.

"Spread your legs wider," you command, pushing them open; you get the impression that he has a particular liking for you treating him as an object to be played with.

Leaning over again, and slowly taking his cock all the way into the back of your throat, you begin to press a finger into his ass. It's so hot and tight, and he involuntarily squeezes around your finger every time his cock hits the back of your throat.

You ease your finger in and out with the motion of your head up and down his cock, still slow, agonizing. You add a second, and it's almost like a vise, he squeezes you so hard. He's bucking his hips, both to get more friction on his cock, and also to fuck himself harder on your hand, to get more contact with his prostate which you're barely touching with each thrust.

The rhythmic pulsing that you know signifies the beginning of his orgasm starts, and you stop sucking him, and still your movements in his ass.

"Frederick," you say darkly. "I can prolong this for a very long time. You have to promise me something, and then I'll let you cum."

"Anything. Everything," he moans desperately.

"Have you ever worn panties under your suit at the hospital? Tell me the truth."

"Yes, I do. I mean, I have. Sometimes. Ohgod, please..."

"Have you ever worn stockings?"

"No....No I haven't...uhhhh....mmmmplease....."

"I want you to wear them. I want to come to your office and give you a reward for being good and doing what I told you."

"What....what reward...?"

"I'll bend you over your desk and finger fuck you in your office. Then I'll let you touch yourself."

"Oh fuck..."

"Will you do that for me whenever I tell you?"

"Yes, oh, fuck, please let me cum, I'll do anything..."

"Ok, Frederick. I believe you. Now, you can wrap your hand over your big, pretty cock and make yourself cum."

You resume the long, slow strokes in and out of him, as he obediently does as he's told. You watch rapturously as his big hand works up and down his pulsing cock, as he sweeps his thumb over the flushed, leaking head. As he's beginning to speed up, and you feel the rhythmic pulsing start again, you say, "You're so hot and slick. You like getting fingered, don't you? You love getting your tight ass fucked. Maybe I'll surprise _you_ next time, and you'll get a package one day with a nice big strap-on, and I'll fuck you properly."

This does it. He puts his head back and begins to wail as you finally make full strokes against his prostate as he begins to cum. Thick ropes drench the green camisole, and he looks utterly debauched as he's gasping and writhing, still masturbating, slower and slower, and he finally stops.

You withdraw from his ass, and he whines; you get up to get a towel to clean him off at least a little. He came so hard, his abdomen, chest, and neck are covered.

As he begins to regain coherency, you tell him, "I meant everything I said. I want you moaning like a whore in your office, bent over your desk, wearing nothing but stockings. You seem to want me to push you, Frederick. To give you license to do things you've barely dared to think about. That's why you sent me the package, isn't it?"

Even after all of what you just did, he still blushes. You take that as a yes.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first reader fic. I hope you like it! I think I have more ideas! Chilton has taken over my life! Send Help!


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